"All done by kindness!" lisped the little chap. As we made an attempt to enter the dining-room, what should fall on our heads but a great wet sponge, backed by a ring of laughter from the hidden prompter, and GEORGE appeared, shouting "Bo!" followed by the loving wife, who helped to make the fun possible. What a time we had! From the moment we arrived (and fell over a string adroitly arranged by the dear little children across the little hall) to the moment that we had got into our little apple-pie beds, all was fun, frolic, merriment, and domestic joy. Just as we were falling asleep, tired out with a happy evening, we were disturbed by a chorus, as of _waits_, singing outside our room these beautiful words-- "O! FLO, what a change you know! When he left the village he was shy, But since he come into a little bit of splosh His golden hair is hanging down his back!" This was more of GEORGE'S loving ingenuity. But we wished he had made it rhyme. His wife had helped him, but she would not take the credit. "That was GEORGE'S idea," laughed along her lips. I threatened "to make copy" of him, and now I have done it. Moreover, I shall further presume on his forbearance by writing no more about him for the present. [Illustration] * * * * * ALL THE DIFFERENCE.--In the programme of the Ballad Concerts given in the _Times_, Mr. BEN DAVIES was advertised to sing SULLIVAN'S "_Come, Come, Margherita_." Now the title of this song is its refrain, _i.e._, "Come, MARGHERITA, come!" which is evidently a lover's passionate invitation, while if it is written as "_Come, Come, Margherita_," it is clearly only an expostulation of a rather commonplace character uttered to MARGHERITA, who has been exasperatingly petulant, and who won't come when asked. For many many years it was the fashion (as it still is with the veteran tenor) for "MAUD" to be invited to "come into the garden," just as the fly used to be requested by the spider to "walk into his parlour." Now it is MARGHERITA who is having her turn (in the garden) with BEN DAVIES. * * * * * [Illustration: THE SPORTING INSTINCT. "COME ALONG, BOBBIE! DON'T LAG BEHIND!" "WAIT A MINUTE, MOTHER. THERE ARE TWO SOLDIERS GOING TO MEET. I JUST WANT TO SEE THE BATTLE!"] * * * * * "WHITTINGTON REDIVIVUS;" OR, THE BURDEN OF THE BELLS. _The new Progressive Dick Whittington, would-be Lord Mayor of London, sitteth on Saturday, March 2, 1895, and meditateth on the probable meaning of the L. C. C. Election Bells:_--